


don't touch that water bottle

by merelyans



Series: Catboys AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboy Atsumu, Kenma has the fire department on speed dial, Kenma is a great cat owner wym, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyans/pseuds/merelyans
Summary: There are times in which Kenma regrets taking in, in his own words, a dumb cat. But other times, he finds comfort in having a little company.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Miya Atsumu
Series: Catboys AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152503
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	don't touch that water bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of HQ Catboy Week
> 
> Prompt: **petting/physical touch** | maid outfit

Don’t get him wrong, Kenma doesn’t dislike his cat.

He doesn’t. 

He gladly took in the brother of Akaashi’s cat, back when Atsumu was quiet and polite and promised to know how to cook “as well as” Osamu. Kenma is a good person, he works hard, he’s a good cat owner (despite having three handfuls worth of a fuzzy bastard), he pays his rent on time, he replies to fans’ comments and tweets, even when they ask for more cat content. He deserves good things to happen to him.

He even takes the cat out for walks, lets him sit out on the balcony and yell his meows into the street, orders him things he wants and lets him see his brother at least once a week. He does everything he can to make sure Atsumu is happy, well fed, and for the love of his own sanity, entertained. He does _not_ dislike his cat.

And if he tells himself that enough times, he might start to believe it. 

“Hey,” Atsumu swishes his tail in annoyance and pushes Kenma’s water bottle off of the desk. “I’m hungry.”

Kenma clenches his jaw and continues editing his latest recording, hoping that Atsumu thinks the audio is too loud and that he can’t hear him. But as much as he hates to admit it, his dumb cat isn’t _that_ dumb. Atsumu watches for a reaction, dissatisfied with Kenma’s lack of response. He kicks the water bottle and it loudly skitters across the floor, hitting the wall with a heavy clunk.

“Can you please stop?” Kenma grits his teeth, eyes still glued to his screen. “We can order something in a bit, just let me finish this video. Go pick something out..”

“Can we go see Osamu instead? I’m hungry for his food.”

“Akaashi is working right now,” Kenma glances at the time, knowing full well that Akaashi’s been home for at least a few hours now. Atsumu probably knows it, too, but Kenma can’t be bothered. He’s behind schedule, his editor is out sick, and this needs to get up by tomorrow afternoon. “We can’t just invite ourselves over.”

“Fine,” Atsumu’s words turn sour, mouth puckered as his hands clench into tiny fists. He walks over to the window and starts to slide it open, “I’ll just climb up to his balcony again.”

Kenma rips his headphones off fast enough to free a few strands of hair from his ponytail holder, stomping over to the damn cat and pulling on the collar of his shirt with one hand, slamming the window shut with the other. Atsumu hisses, the window nearly jamming itself over his fingers. 

Maybe it’s time Kenma finally Atsumu proofs the whole apartment… 

“Don’t you dare,” Kenma warns, spitting venom.

“Relax, it’s not like I was gonna do it,” Atsumu says, totally having been about to do it.

“I am _not_ calling the fire department again, Atsumu.”

His tail continues swishing, and Atsumu flops down on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, ears flat against his head. Kenma shakes his head, muttering “child” under his breath as he tosses Atsumu a takeout menu. Kenma leans over to pick up the water bottle and sets it on the coffee table in front of him, knowing that the poor beaten up thing will just get knocked off again, but he can’t use anything else to drink out of ever since Atsumu broke all of his glass cups. Well, broke all of them, cut his foot, swore revenge on all other glass cups, and got stitches.

“We’ll go over on Saturday, okay? Like we always do.”

“But that’s so far away,” He whines, dramatically sprawling out on the couch. “I know ‘Kaashi’s home, let’s go. Osamu makes the best onig-”

“I said that we can see them on Saturday, okay?” Kenma gestures to his computer. “Akaashi and I are both too busy to cater to your every little whim.”

Atsumu purses his lips together, tail completely still and ears drooping. Kenma nods with a small victorious huff, and he sits back down in his chair, blowing hair out of his face. He slips his headphones back over his head and starts to go through his motions of click, cut, delete. Click, cut, delete. Click, cut, delete. Click, cut-

Another loud clang hits the floor and Kenma closes his eyes, hoping that if he tries hard enough, he can will Atsumu to behave. He goes back to clicking, cutting, and deleting, and the rattling of the damn water bottle grows louder and louder. Kenma just knows that he’s going to get another noise complaint.

People had been worried that an internet personality was moving in next door, but he’s quiet enough that no one’s ever given him a complaint for his gameplay. It wasn’t until he took in Atsumu that the neighbors started side-eyeing him in the hallways, slipping warnings under his door that Atsumu loves to tear up into little shreds, and he and Atsumu have both earned a permanent place on the landlord’s shit list.

Especially after the fire department debacle. 

No one will let him live that one down, and he still gets strangers in the elevator that ask him if he’s the dude with the idiot cat that got lodged between two balconies, crying and screaming for Kenma to come get him.

Osamu’s the biggest offender of bringing it up, jumping at any chance to weave it into conversation. It usually ends with Atsumu getting embarrassed, hiding it with rage, getting in a fight with Osamu, and Kenma spending time cleaning Atsumu’s scratches with zero sympathy and disinfectant that _stings._

He bats around the water bottle with his hands a little before he gets bored, slinking back up to Kenma’s side and sitting down, propping his head up on his elbows, staring at him with those big pupils.

Kenma bites the inside of his cheek, going through his motions of editing, fully aware of Atsumu’s gaze. It makes his hair stand on edge, chills him to his core. It’s the guilt gaze. The one that Kenma knows he gives into too easily, the one Kenma knows he shouldn’t give justification to, the one Kenma knows Atsumu uses to manipulate him.

He turns his head.

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

“I know,” He grits his teeth and feels himself give in. “Can you wait just a few moments? I’ll text Akaashi and ask him if we can come over.”

Atsumu grins a crooked grin.

“You’re the best, Kenma.”

“Yeah,” His lips twitch, trying to hide the blooming smile. “Sure.”

“Really.”

Atsumu leans into Kenma and bunts his forehead against Kenma’s thigh, just a light press, but it’s enough for Kenma to know that he really means it. Kenma exhales a short breath of air and grabs his phone with his left hand, reaching out and resting a hand on the top of Atsumu’s head with his right. He slowly scratches small circles between his ears, Atsumu falling into his palm with a small undignified purr. 

His fur is soft, something Kenma would rather delete his channel than admit he loves to touch, the yellow hairs getting caught between his fingers with every stroke. Atsumu always smells like the ocean, even though he throws a fit almost every time he needs to take a bath, and Kenma silently thanks whoever might be listening that at least Atsumu doesn't stink or turn greasy. Especially after how much Kenma actually does this, idly run his fingers through Atsumu’s hair, feeling the vibrations of his throat work their way up his arm.

Akaashi responds almost immediately, saying that it’s a coincidence because Osamu had gotten the feeling that Atsumu was craving his cooking and made extra. Kenma scrunches his nose up at the damn twin connection they have, and moves his hand to once again pet and smooth down Atsumu’s fur, flattening it against his head.

Atsumu pretends to scowl and ruffles his hair with his fingers when Kenma pulls away, immediately leaning back in to demand more. Kenma looks at his editing, looks at his phone, Akaashi’s invitation to come over loud and proud on his screen, and meets those damn big eyes and stupid encouraging smile gazing up at him.

And maybe, just _maybe,_ Kenma just so happens to sort of like his dumb cat.


End file.
